


Two of Them

by written_in_blood



Category: Hannibal (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:08:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/written_in_blood/pseuds/written_in_blood
Summary: When Greg stayed the night, he expected a calming dinner, maybe a not-so-calmingactivityafter they retired for the day. What he didn't expect was a very interesting call from a Detective Crawford of America on the subject of a mutually engaged activity:genius babysitting.





	Two of Them

Greg was yanked violently from his sleep by a loud ringing. “Honey, can you get that?” He questioned, hands still firmly pressed into his lover’s side. The man in question just groaned, turning over to draw Greg into his chest. “Myc,” he chasted.

 

Sighing, he leaned up and reached over Myc for his cell. “Detective Inspector Lestrade,” he answered with all of the alertness he could manage in the wee morning.

 

“Hello, this is Agent Crawford, agent-in-charge from the FBI Behavioral Unit and I was directed your way by a small, silent woman who wouldn't look up from her phone,” an American voice returned. Anthea, of course.

 

“Yes, sir. That would Anthea, one of ours. Is there a particular reason why she has pointed you my way?”

 

At this point, Myc started to sit up as well, eyes flickering over Greg in an attempt to glean some reason from the conversation. Knowing he would just figure it out anyway, the daft genius, Greg hit the speaker button and set the phone between them on a little pile of sheets.

 

“Well, um, first a question?” The man asked sheepishly. Greg hummed his confirmation and he continued. “Do you have a man in your unit over at the Yard who is a pseudo-detective with an almost superhuman ability to catch murderers because he sees things no one else sees?”

 

Greg sighed heavily, dropping his head in his hands. Of course the reason he can't get a full night of sleep is because of Sherlock’s escapades and to America, no less. “Yep. I am so sorry. I do not know why he is out of the country.”

 

Agent Crawford let out an almost embarrassed chuckle. “No, it's okay. It's just, well, he's provoking ours and- KATZ CATCH HIM!”

 

Greg jumped at the sudden yell, both brits listening to what sounded like a man running full speed and yelling. When the man came back on the phone, he was out of breath and panting.

 

“Sorry, Mine just tried to jump off a cliff to prove a point and Yours pushed him.”

 

“Yours? Mine?” Greg repeated dumbly, not quite caught up.

 

“Geniuses, Detective Inspector. Mine deduced that the killer threw himself off the cliff after he stuck the body on the edge and Yours wanted to see if the human body could survive the fall.” He sounded put out and an argument could be heard in the background that sounded a lot like John chasting Sherlock. It echoed with a second argument of a deep European voice chasting another man in the same manner as John was to Sherlock.

 

Great, there's two of them.

 

Myc looked pained for a moment before reaching for the phone. “We will retrieve our wayward detective in ten hours or so. We apologize for the disruption he has caused.”

 

A muffled, “Jack, he was not alone!” came through and the two lovers sat there for a moment as Sherlock and another voice went back and forth annotating the case, explanations overlapping from wildly different but equally amazing points of view.

 

Finally, Agent Crawford came back onto the line. “I have to go catch a biker with too many pimples, anger issues, and a lover-slash-best friend that helps him commit murder. Thank you for your time and please rid my crime scenes of this guy. I have enough trouble trying to wrangle one hyperactive genius.” There was a scream. “He just jumped. Gotta go,” he continued,  sounding resigned and completely exhausted.

 

The conversation clicked off.

 

Greg sighed. “How is America this time of year?”


End file.
